Literary Wives Club: Euphoria by Elin Cullhed

There is so much to Elin Cullhed’s Euphoria, I hardly know where to begin. Perhaps an appropriate starting point is that I found this novel wholly absorbing.

Euphoria is an account of Sylvia Plath’s final year, marked by significant events – the birth of her second child, Nick; the publication of her first novel, The Bell Jar; and the unraveling of her marriage to Ted Hughes.

It’s gutsy, isn’t it, to write a novel about the pleasure and pain of love from the first-person perspective of Plath, when Plath herself offered exactly that through her writing? And yet, Cullhed achieves something special here. As Plath ‘describes’ her domestic life (baking, gardening, beekeeping, entertaining) with Hughes and the children on their property in Devon, the reader is given access to her increasingly anguished thoughts – pain, uncertainty and doubt invade even the most ordinary moments. Continue reading

#GermanLitMonth – The Granddaughter by Bernhard Schlink

I almost held my review of Bernhard Schlink’s latest English translation, The Granddaughter, until I’d finished the book I’m currently reading for #GermanLitMonth – The Bureau of Past Management by Iris Hanika – because both books deal with atonement. How do we live with, and understand the sins of the past? Those questions apply in lots of circumstances but in both books, they are asked about Germany, the Holocaust, and the complexities of pride.

I have mentioned numerous times on this blog, my fascination with how Germans understand and own their country’s history; how they demonstrate their shame; how their history reverberates, and what this means for the generations of people who were not alive during WWII. Continue reading

#GermanLitMonth: An Inventory of Losses by Judith Schalansky

There’s a word for everything in German – it’s because you can simply describe something and join up all the words. Or, you think about a particular feeling or set of circumstances and attribute it to something tangible to make a word. Examples include Kummerspeck, Frühlingsgefühle, and Geborgenheit.

I mention the interesting words because one of my favourites (as a word and a concept) is Kunstkammer, which translates as a ‘cabinet of curiosities’. These cabinets have a long history, and were essentially collections of ‘curious items from home or abroad’, usually with a nature focus (obviously collecting bits of nature for personal viewing is frowned upon these days!). When I lived in Germany, my host family had a small Kunstkammer in their house, but I didn’t come across another one until I met a woman twenty years ago who had been a vet – her cabinet filled a whole wall and was carefully curated – it was amazing to look at. Continue reading